Anti-D

It's not generally advised for someone to sing at the top of their lungs, as a means of curing an upper respiratory tract infection. But I wasn’t going to lie in bed and miss out on The Wombats.

Perhaps it was thanks to the copious mugs of sweet tea and lemsip – or it could have been the utterly brilliant pop music, but I felt a million dollars at the gig.

Today is another matter. I feel more lackluster than ever. I can barely string sentences together.

Ugh, why does feeling sick entail feeling miserable?

Teenage dreams

It’s day three of “retirement” – I’ve already reorganized my wardrobe, sorted through my tax and banking, washed many loads of laundry, returned an incredibly overdue library book and have basically acted like a responsible adult. I even started planning for when I return to Sydney and started looking up jobs…

Then I realized, hold on, I’m on holidays. Why don’t I just play it cool? So I’ve tried to zone in on what my self-indulgent, teenage self would do with bucket loads of free time, a small kitty of dough and a driving license. So I started singing along with this song to help me get in the freewheeling mood:

So far I’ve decided to go for a walk. Perhaps I’ll follow that up with reading some magazines. Party central right here!

Maybe after a week of living teenage dreams, I’ll end up reverting back to being a child and throwing some hilarious shenanigans like this.

Writing

I'm currently writing up my review of last night's gig and enjoying reliving the night. The dancing floor was heaving to the Perth indie pop, with OAF packed to max capacity.

This cover of Fleetwood Mac was definitely a highlight of the night. A synth-infused dream.

Tomorrow it starts, I suppose

[Tim and Jean]

It was my last day of work today. It may be lame to admit, but I keen (almost anxious) to launder my uniform, just so I can officially ziplock it away for the next year.

I fly out on May 28th and won't be putting my nose back to grindstone until March 2012. That is if I find a job.

But I will be keeping busy with my freelance writing. In fact I'll be reviewing these native Perth boys tomorrow night and I'm pretty damn excited as I feel like dancing. I do, I do.

The Grates are great

The Grates are back!! I am positively tickled pink, as it’s been two years since their last release; finally they have a brand-spanking-new album coming out.

Though they are minus their adorable drummer (who has enrolled in a culinary school in NYC), their first single oozes with a sound synonymous with The Grates [Translation: Solid high hats, loose guitar and sweaty, manic, animalistic good times].

[Cake for goodness sake]

They haven't released any of the music online, but they are keeping a delightfully zany blog - Hate Creep.

Now I'm going to sink into their back catalogue and relive some memories of their live shows, cue montage of thrones, animal costumes, hula hoops, rhythmic gymnastics.

Wombats and Dancing

My siblings and I are literary jumping with joy for the latest Wombats release. Yup we’re shaking like ferrets to ‘Techno Fan’ and belting out ‘Anti-D’. Perhaps we’ll even have a synchronized dance down pat for their gig next week? Though I think we'll forgo matching outfits...

[The Wombats]

Besides absolutely gorging myself with this delightful aural feast, I’ve also been loving the album’s cover art. The illustration style reminds me of a Babysitter’s Club book – fresh, innocence, warm and inviting. Plus there are sausage dogs. Be. Still. My. Heart.

All Mine

I’ve been lucky to see Little Red go from playing tiny pubs with beer soaked carpets, to ridiculously early sets at boutique festivals (Laneway) to playing later slots at major festivals (Splendour).

Their debut album was full of doo-wop dance floor ditties, but it’s their new heart-achingly smooth songs that are setting my pulse a flutter.

"All Mine" makes me bite my lips and curl my toes in pleasure.

Bliss

[Poster by greedy hen]

I feel as though I’m stalking Jinja Safari.

While I’m not planning to name my first born Jinja or Safari, nor am I building tumblrs or fossicking through their garbage bins. I have seen them play 3 times this year and it’s only March.

Though they are a new band with a limited arsenal of songs to fill their set list - they still provoke me to throw myself into a convulsions resembling a wonky highland fling, with flashes of Zumba hip swivelling and Kevin Bacon inspired posing. This was probably not the best rehab for my new running injury and my dancing certainty isn’t an effective mating call. But regardless of this, I would happily continue my winning streak of seeing Jinja Safari once a month for the rest of the year.

[Jinja safari]

I was slightly more apprehensive about seeing Cloud Control, as I have also seen then a handful of times in quick succession. The difference between the two bands; is that I’ve surgically grafted Cloud Control’s “Bliss release” album to my ear. I’ve had it on high rotation for the last six months and know the songs so intimately that my genes have probably mutated to include the album’s score.

While the album doesn’t sound stale, I was dubious that Cloud Control would have any element of surprise in their show. As a stint in the UK and a massive touring schedule hasn’t left the band with any time to release any more ‘bliss’.

Yet any fears I had were shelved within the first song. The band seemed like they have been missing Sydney, as they played with joyful abandonment and the crowd were equally enthralled. The set list had a lovely mix of lesser known B-sides and tracks off their award winning debut album. With the help of the boys from Fishing, Cloud Control also dished up a new cover of a School of Seven Bells track.

[Cloud Control]

Cabins, belles, lanes, magnets and cairo

Cabins, Belles Will Ring, Lanie Lane, Magnetic Heads & The Cairos @ OAF, Saturday 19^th March.

Generally brand endorsed music events are just thinly veiled exercises in product pimping. However any apprehension I had of being bombarded by ads was quickly dispelled when I was greeted by OAF’s bare brick walls. Thankfully free of a potential barrage of Jim Beam posters. There wasn’t even an MC to hurry the bands along and enforce a strict timetable of proceedings. The merch was displayed on a bare trestle table, manned by various band members, making the vibe less corporate and more bootleg.

With five bands on the lineup the night started early. Too early it seemed, with only a smattering of punters showing up to watch Brisbane natives The Cairos. The near empty room didn’t deter the band from letting loose with an energetic set. Singer Alistar Richardson led the charge with his stellar vocal range evident in “Shane” and “Listening Party”, jumping from polished 1960s pop to a half strangled scream.

The Magnetic Heads were next up and with six members they crowded the small stage. Jonathan Millar’s wry and nonchalant drawl makes it easy to compare the band to a whole gamut of 1980s predecessors including The Go-betweens, Split Endz, Simple Minds or The Smiths. But it became quickly apparent that the band isn’t one to mooch off of others, each song is incredibly well crafted. Their songs veer away from traditional song structure; long progressive builds are interspersed with unexpected flourishes of tambourine and upbeat jangly keyboard. These rapid tempo changes aren’t jarring to the ear; they sound smooth, polished but most importantly incredibly fresh and exciting.

Lanie Lane sauntered on stage in a leopard print leotard, high waist jeans and an evitable quiff. Lane has the rockabilly look down to a tee. Her music on the other hand doesn’t just stick to the one genre as the set skipped between jazz, blues and poppier numbers. Announcing to the now sizable crowd that she just quit her day job as a florist, its apparent that Lane’s got the goods to back up her decision, with punters twisting in time to “Bang Bang”, “Betty Baby”, “Hoochie Coochie Man”.

Belles Will Ring, didn’t bother introducing themselves, instead they served up a solid set full of new material including ‘Come North With Me Baby, Wow”, “Deepwater” and “The Coldest Heart”, which are less upbeat love songs of old (“Park benches”) and more introspective musings. Lingering lead guitar, solid bass lines, sedate singing and the occasional flute created a darker ambience to match the lyrics. Even though the songs are moody and evoke feelings distance and space, the band played with enthusiasm and vigor.

The crowd tapered off during the interlude, but Cabins shook any sense of music fatigue from the reminding punters with hammering kick-drum beats. The consistent heavy beats in “Hounds” and “Mary” are trance like and the brooding vocals swim through the layers of off kilter guitar, causing the listener to feel in equal parts hypnotic and manic. “Foes & Thieves” and “Oceanic Blues” are more pared back and are driven by Leroy Bressington’s softly yearning vocals. Making it a more sedate, but nonetheless pleasing way to finish off the evening.

The bootleg tour succeeded in not succumbing to corporate shenanigans but showcased five cracking bands, which deserve to be hyped.

Nanna naps and late nights

I’m getting my grandma groove on tonight – early to bed and early to rise. Unfortunately the early start isn’t for something fun like jog or coffee; rather it’s for inoculation. I’m rolling my sleeves up and getting jabbed. Multiple times. Ouch.

Hopefully the mix of inert bugs won’t send me off my chops, as I’m covering a gig review at the OAF. Which sounds like it’s shaping up to be a cracker of a night, with a saucy selection of up and coming indie bands.

Belles Will Ring

Ps. I think that this post is all sounding a bit ocker, as I saw a news item about Prince William’s bemusement over the Kiwi’s choice vernacular.

House party

An artist I know became so frustrated by being “constrained by the parameters of canvas”, she started experimenting with light installations. It seems that most people present at Garden Music on the weekend felt similarly frustrated They didn’t start brandishing light bulbs, but they did ditch the free canvas on offer, in favour of slathering their limbs in paint.

Floral sundresses, high waisted short shorts, hula hoops, trilby hats, bare feet, parasols, suspenders and rockabilly attitudes were also favoured attire. All of which are not befitting the typical standards set by Government House.

Needless to say the Historic Houses Trust can throw a heck of party.

The Trust kindly opened the doors and grounds Government House, for a Sunday afternoon Garden Party. Constructed between 1837 and 1845, Government House “is the most sophisticated Gothic revival building in the state (NSW)”. To put it plainly – it’s jaw droppingly beautiful. The cavernous rooms are lit by natural sunlight from enormous bay windows and lined with bespoke carpets, so soft it puts my new sleeping mat to shame. The furniture and textiles throughout are a delightful blend of contemporary and Victorian styles.

When you’re having a house party it’s important to get the right vibe. To achieve this, there were garden games including croquet and badminton.

For the less competitive there were hula hoops, free newspapers and ‘Art en plein air’ (free art supplies so you could capture your impressions of the day). To keep the energy levels up, after lounging in the hot afternoon sun, a selection of French pasteries, tea and iced coffee were available.

This was all lovely, but what is a party without music?

There were performances throughout the day by – Ngalire, First Flight Crew, Lanie Lane, Deep Sea Arcade, Jinja Safari and Jonathan Boulet. In between sets, the very witty Gramophone Man kept the beats going on his beautiful brass gramophone.

This is a shot of one of the blokes from Jinja Safari scaling the scaffolding - gosh they are the bees knees and cause me to dance with wild tribal abandonment till my heart aches and my arm pits are swimming in sweat. Not the most attractive of descriptions, but look in the mirror if you happen to listen to their music - chances are you be throwing around moves that would make the Governor General blush.

Eating my words

Oh Mercy have pulled their ingeniously titled new album "Great Barrier Grief" fresh out of the oven and they have me eating my words.

When I saw these guys warm up for Ben Folds a few years ago, I thought they were a bit underwhelming.

To brutally honest, I declared that they were boring and should be kicked off the stage because I wanted to revel in the magic of Mr Folds. But having nibbled on their album throughout the week, I realised that Oh Mercy create subtle songs that are very pleasing to the ear. In fact halfway through my first listen of the track "Let me go", I was overcome with chills and yelped out "classic! classic!".

Lessons learnt:

1. "Great Barrier Grief" is a nugget of aussie aural gold

2. Unlike Oh Mercy, I am not subtle in the least.

Maths run

This blog is a document to how much I adore music, with strong inclinations towards indie music. I also love running. I love doing it, reading about it, plotting routes, highlighting training plans, talking about it, listening to other people talk about it, day dreaming about it, buying running apparel.

Yup, I’m in deep.

[image via: Tuesdayaffairs]

I wasn’t too shabby at maths at school, but I’ve certainly lost what the limited skills I had. However this is a simple equation features on indie running soup:

Indie music + Running = Happiness

Square the resultant and times by 86, then you come to close to describing how music and running make me feel.

Thanks to Indie running soup I'm positively besides myself for my run tomorrow. I've picked the 2010 year in the review mix:

Philadelphia Grand Jury - "The Good News"


The Fast Romantics - "Moneymouth"


Hellogoodbye - "You Sleep Alone"


Fanfarlo - "Sand & Ice"


Sam Isaac - "Come Back Home Tonight"


The Budos Band - "Unbroken, Unshaven"


Rodrigo y Gabriela - "Buster Voodoo"


Robbers On High Street - "Electric Eye"


Hot Chip - "Thieves in the Night"


Scissor Sisters - "Sex and Violence"


Phantogram - "As Far As I Can See"


Oberhofer - "I Could Go"


Sleigh Bells - "Tell 'Em"


Hungry Kids of Hungary - "The Vacationer"

They also offer the delightfully entitled podcasts - rotten toenails, heart attack mix, junk run mix, intervals with the indies, shin splint mix. Bliss.

Let's Hear It for the Boy

As i was driving to my laborhood I heard Kate Nash's gnarlz "Like a version" on the radio - I had to stop myself going ham, but I was dancing so much I forgot that I was hangry!

Ahhh urban dictionary - providing hours of entertainment and unnecessary spice to my sentences.

Slam!

It's the one year anniversary of SLAM day (Save Live Australian Music "a non-politically aligned, independent entity made up of musicians and music-lovers") a gathering of 22,000+ people on the streets of Melbourne to protest against changes to the Liquor Licensing Victoria (LLV) to curb street violence.

Of course alcohol fuelled violence is bad news but these changes to licensing had unintentionally negative repercussions on the local live music scene.

It would be another 8 months after the rally for the licensing to be changed to acknowledge that there is no link between live music and alcohol fuelled violence.

So what would any music loving group do to commemorate an anniversary? Throw a kick arse gig.

It's times like these I wish I had a jet pack, as Melbourne is the place to be tonight.

Trifectar dance off

For ten bucks you can see sit on the couch with a family sized block of chocolate and a tub of ice cream OR you can dance! dance! dance!

Yup I'm lacing up my dancing shoes and catching the tail end of the triple rainbow tour - it's going to be sweeter than that tub of neapolitan ice cream.

Ghost Train

Sometimes band names fail to capture the style of music they produce - Summer Camp got it right.

They got it so very right.

I feel like I'm swimming in a lake of sunshine and happiness when I listen to their EP.

Tuning fork

Architecture in Helsinki sound like a marching band who have been lost in the jungle for six months with nothing but their instruments, rain water and an endless supply of native fruit (with hallucinogenic properties). At times serene, other times hyperactive and bewilleringly delightful. The chaotic clash of ideas, hramonies and instruments, is always incredibly original and infectiously danceble.

I am excited for their new album. Yippee!

The Strokes you continue to woo me so with your jagged riffs, solid high hat drumming and delightfully messy audio production. Bon bon bon! Most music blogs are heralding the band's return to form - but I don't think they ever lost it, every release has made me dance like a cat on a hot tin roof or buy a leather jacket so I too can strike rock n' roll poses.

I'm also keen to sink my ears into Bright Eyes new release The People's Key.

So long

I finished my new grad year yesterday. I thought I would be high fiving every man and his dog, yet I felt melancholy that it was all over.

To cheer myself up I scrolled through my playlist and stumbled across Soko.

A couple of years back I saw Soko playing at Sunset sounds, “I’ll Kill her” had been on high rotation on triple J for the last 6 months – after hearing it thirty odd times I started to hate the song with a passion.

Given there was nothing else of note playing during her festival time slot I decided to give Soko a shot. A petite French girl with a cheeky demeanour hit the stage – after one song I was intrigued. By three songs in I was a fan. By five songs I was filing it away as one of the top 10 gigs I been.

Then her voice turned gravelly and a tear trickled down her face, suddenly it built up into a torrent of tears. Yet she kept singing about dandy cowboys, baby cats and wet dreams. The crowd started to call out, asking her what was wrong, people offered hugs, speculation that someone she knew passed away or that she had a broken heart ran rampant. Yet she kept battling through the songs. Finally with one song to go she announced in her lilting accent that she was retiring.

Gosh it’s sad when a good thing comes to an end.

Especially when you didn't realise how good it was till it was gone.

Golden

There are few things better than lying on the grass, listening to music in a warm patch of afternoon sunshine. Perhaps if the music were live and maybe if you were on holidays with a bunch of your mates. Yup that sounds nice. Very nice indeed. The organisers of the Golden Plains Music Festival think so too:

"It is staged in Autumn so the weather is warm and stable. Afternoon goes on all day; the sun like honey on the trees, then a giant spike of excitement goes kabloooey at nightfall. The Summer Fool is spent by March so GP is oblivious to that particular strain of vain folly.

Camp wherever you like, bring almost everything and anything if you want – you can bring a couch (perhaps with matching armchairs and an occasional table, with a drawer) and plant it in the Amphitheatre for the weekend, and soak. it. all. up. For a long weekend."

This isn't a commercially sponsored event, the fun isn't forced into a strict timetable, "so there’s room for traditions to evolve naturally and spontaneously. So far those to do so include The Boot, whereby for some unknown reason the crowd ’salutes’ their favourite performance of the festival by holding one of their shoes/boots/footwear of choice aloft.... Then there’s The Lampshade and The Door, both of unknown origin."

Believe it or not there are still tickets available and I haven't even mentioned how amazing the line up is (Joanna Newsom,Belle and Sebastian, Best Coast, Wavves, Architecture in Helsinki, The Middle East, Boy & Bear). I'm getting hot sweats just thinking about it.

It's times like these I wish I wasn't saving my moola.

[images via Aunty Meredith]